


listen to the song in my soul (only you can hear)

by sobsicles



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Before Jack is Born, But you already knew that, Cas is Not Having Any of Deans Shit, Dean Doesnt Know How to Talk About His Emotions, Deans internal monolouge is legit so fucking funny, Humor, Jack is a BABY, Kelly Lives, Ladies of SPN Are Badasses, M/M, Sam is an Optimist, Set in canon, Soulmate AU, cas just let him kiss you bro, mostly fun, slight angst, someone help this oblivious asshole
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-28
Updated: 2019-10-28
Packaged: 2021-01-05 22:14:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,394
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21215900
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sobsicles/pseuds/sobsicles
Summary: Sam thought having a soulmate already handpicked for you with the one connection of hearing the songs they listen to was a fantastic idea. Soulmates were a thing regardless, there was someone for everyone, and the music was simply a hint that God gifted humanity with.Dean constantly felt as if he was one step behind, just on the outside looking in, and he had too many bad associations with the whole soulmate situation to ever be positive about it. In fact, he'd go as far as saying that he hated it, and he had a couple of times to pretty much anyone he met.That, unfortunately, would come back to bite him in the ass.~~~Dean could feel the color draining from his face as the next song drifted through his mind, the all too familiar intro to Black Dog playing softly for only two pairs of ears to hear. The song played through, and he waited for the next, somehow just knowing what would come. And sure enough, Dean listened to Black Dog predictably transition into Immigrant Song with a slight crackle that he'd done his best to erase.Dean gritted his teeth. "You've got to be fucking kidding me."





	listen to the song in my soul (only you can hear)

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, a few notes here. Y'all gonna have to expend some belief on me here on a few fronts, okay? I didn't go out and do research on souls and shit, nor did I keep track of when Kelly actually had Jack. 
> 
> This is purely for fun and to have something light and fluffy, that's all. Also another thing: I'm not 100% sure if Cas has listened to music on his own in canon, so if he has...well, I apologize. But this is fic, folks, so sit back and enjoy :D

Cas wasn't a music fanatic of any kind, Dean knew this firsthand. Sure, he listened to whatever Dean was listening to, or whatever was playing in the car on long trips. But he never went out of his way to listen to music in his spare time. 

Dean had asked once, just the once, and the answer he got pretty much made him certain the topic wasn't going to be broached again. 

Cas had simply said, "Nothing compares to millennia I spent listening to angels sing. I much prefer listening to podcasts; some are very informative." 

Dean's knee-jerk reaction had been to joke, "Well, you haven't heard Bon Jovi yet," but he'd refrained in the nick of time, and he stopped picking on Cas when he caught him enjoying different podcasts. 

Dean  _ was  _ a music fanatic of a very specific kind, one that nodded to the nostalgia of a visage he had of his parents before a time of monsters. That, or songs that mysteriously pumped him full of adrenaline and calmed him all at once--looking at you, Metallica. There was nothing like Zeppelin right before he had to dive head first into a nest of vamps. And for those days when he'd been running on little sleep, unhealthy amounts of coffee, and the fumes of Baby as she rumbled from one backroad to next as they jumped from hunt to hunt, he could find great peace in swapping between listening to practically any classic rock station that the radio had to offer. 

He was a simple man. 

Still, like most things in his life, his enjoyment of music couldn't remain untouched by complications. To be fair, he wasn't at fault for this; it was just some cruel, unfortunate joke God forgot to fix before he abandoned the rapidly deteriorating world. Dean figured the Big Guy thought he'd throw in a little feature to spice up some things, then dipped out without getting rid of it, which surely would have been the best thing to do.

Depending on who you asked. 

Sam thought the whole soulmate angle was creative and--ironically enough--a great thing in life. Of course  _ he  _ did, he had a fucking soulmate. Emphasis on  _ had.  _

Listen, Dean used to be bitter, at ten when he was humming a lullaby and Sam, at the tender age of six, with an unnecessary amount of sass, asked if Dean could kindly shut up so he could hear the song his soulmate had been listening to. He was especially bitter at twenty-three when he met Cassie, who had never heard Ramble On, not even on the radio. He never reached a point where he wasn't bitter about everyone he knew having a soulmate and music in their minds, except for himself. That is until Jess died and Sam had looked at him with tears, choking out that he'd never hear music through her ears again. 

Dean stopped being bitter after that. 

As Sam adjusted and moved on, though never quite the same, he listened to Mr. Brightside again with a fond smile, reminiscing on a time his long-dead soulmate used to blast it in his head at inconvenient times. And still, despite the true tragedy of this, Sam thought having a soulmate already handpicked for you with the one connection of hearing the songs they listen to was a fantastic idea. 

But Sam was an optimist like that. His whole schtick was that soulmates were a thing regardless, that there was someone for everyone, and that the music was simply a hint that God gifted humanity with. Dean never explained how that made him feel like a fucking outcast, because if Sam was  _ right,  _ then that meant he was the only human in the world without a soulmate, which sucked more than he'd admit. 

Sam always had something to say about that whole ordeal, when they were still really young, "Maybe they're not born yet, a ten year difference isn't... _ that  _ much," or more honestly, "Maybe they've already passed," but it was always,  _ always  _ to do with how Dean had a soulmate, whether they were alive or not. 

And sure, there were those cases, and they weren't even that rare. People lost soulmates all the time, some people were deaf, and others had a bit of an age gap (rarely over ten years old, actually). Yet, what Sam never understood was that he'd  _ never  _ heard music in his head from someone else, while everyone he encountered had at some point. 

Dean constantly felt as if he was one step behind, just on the outside looking in, and he had too many bad associations with the whole soulmate situation to  _ ever  _ be positive about it. In fact, he'd go as far as saying that he hated it, and he had a couple of times to pretty much anyone he met. 

That, unfortunately, would come back to bite him in the ass. 

* * *

Dean didn't look too much into the mixtape. 

Yes, it took an unnecessarily long time. He had to pick out each song, remember  _ how  _ to make a mixtape, then painstakingly record each song with more mistakes than he'd admit to. Easily summed up, sure, but it took over three hours. Authenticity was a bitch sometimes, but he wasn't gonna do it half-ass. 

Honestly, he'd done it in the midst of all the bullshit going on with Lucifer's offspring. Cas had been away for awhile, and Dean wasn't exactly the type to express emotion or feeling in the traditional sense.  _ I missed you  _ was usually translated into  _ where the hell have you been,  _ and the mixtape was an emphasis on both. Plus, Cas wasn't answering his phone, nor listening to Dean's numerous prayers,  _ so  _ he vented his frustration with something productive that wasn't breaking Baby apart and putting her back together. 

Dean wasn't entirely sure what kind of mood he was in when he made the damn thing, to be completely honest. One moment, he was just enjoying some Led Zeppelin, and the next, he was working away. Three hours and some change later, he had Cas a mixtape. 

It was a weird time. 

When Cas finally came back, Dean greeted him with the usual, "Where the hell have you been?" 

Dean did not enjoy his answer. He was tired of Cas travelling about between Heaven, Hell, and Earth; perhaps it was selfish, but he'd rather all his family stay on the same fucking plane all at once, thank you very much. And  _ yes,  _ the son of Satan was a huge deal, but he and Sam were doing their best, so he'd prefer it if Cas would have a little faith and try with them  _ first  _ before running off to the winged dicks that were as quick to destroy the world as the literal devil. 

Cas must have noticed his anger because he came to apologize, which was more of a vague explanation than anything. "I just want to do my part, Dean. We are all working toward the same goal," he said. 

"Yeah," Dean agreed with a frown, eyeing Cas from his peripheral. Then, because he felt like Cas didn't feel guilty enough, he took a deep breath and blurted out, "So, look, I made you something while you were off galavanting in the clouds." 

"I was never--" Cas squinted and tilted his head, lips tipping down. "You made  _ me  _ something?" 

"That's right." Dean casually leaned his hip against his desk, reaching out to scoop up the mixtape. He watched Cas zero in on it. "I figured if you're going to be taking long ass trips, you at least should have some good tunes. Here." 

"Ah," Cas said. 

Dean watched Cas pick up the mixtape, turning it over curiously, eyebrows furrowed. "Alright, well, I'm meant to be helping Sam with this antichrist shit," he told him quickly, clearing his throat and pushing away from the desk. "Don't run off again, at least not without telling us where the fuck you're going." 

With that, Dean walked away as calmly as he could, careless to the fact that he abandoned Cas in his own room, just itching to get the fuck away. 

Sam was a fucking freak of nature who noticed absolutely  _ everything,  _ so he immediately clocked Dean's odd behavior. "You two had a fight?" 

"Wouldn't say that," Dean muttered, collapsing into a chair and sighing heavily as he pulled the book closest to him in his arms like a faux shield. 

"You look like you just ran a marathon, which would be a miracle," Sam noted in faint amusement. He arched a judgemental eyebrow. "Spill." 

Dean wrinkled his nose. "Spill?  _ Spill?  _ There's nothing to spill, you asshat. First of all, the day I run a marathon is the day the world officially ends, and  _ second,  _ we're not trading secrets here, Samantha. We're looking for a way to safely stop the antichrist from being the antichrist, so can we get back to that at some point today?" 

"Wow." Sam's lips twitched. "He's been back all of five minutes and you're already more huffy than you were when he was gone. Y'know, I was wondering why he liked to leave so much, but now I think I actually get it. If I was--" 

Dean smirked when Sam yelped and ducked away from the well-deserved book tossed at his head. While Sam glared, he said, "Not everyone has mood swings like  _ you,  _ bitch. And if you must know, I'm not more huffy; I even gave him a gift because I'm a nice friend, so fuck off. Maybe the smell of that organic chick-pea lotion your obsessed with is what keeps running him off."

"First, that lotion is a great moisturizer," Sam muttered, defensively holding up a finger. "And second, now I know why you looked like you pulled a muscle. What'd ya get him?" 

Dean paused. 

No, see, this would be bad. The world would have to end before he admitted that he actually made Cas a fucking mixtape. A great gift? Definitely. Ammunition for little brothers with an itch to tease? A fucking horror show. Absolutely not. 

Dean waved a hand. "Something small. But I'm still a better friend than you, so ha." 

"Didn't realize it was a competition," Sam commented, nostrils flaring with the strain of trying (and failing) to contain the smile tugging at his lips. 

"It's not." Dean narrowed his eyes. "You're doing that thing where you're trying to outwit me and make me admit something, but it's not going to work, so you can cut that shit out." 

"I'm not doing anything," Sam denied instantly, making the face he thought made him look innocent. Spoiler alert, it did not. 

Dean flipped open a book and huffed. "You know what? I'm not doing this with you." 

"Oh, so you're just going to shut up and do research? Not even say anything?" Sam leaned forward on his elbows, eyebrows raised. "You? Are you even capable? You sure you won't break something?" 

"Sam, you're my brother, who I have and still would do anything for,  _ but  _ if you don't shut the fuck up, I will not miss with the next book I throw," Dean said icily, not even looking up from the page. 

Sam snorted. "Sure, Dean. You just sit there and have a good, long think on why you're so tense." 

Dean held up his book in threat, pinning a glare on Sam, but all he got in return was a smirk. Thankfully, Sam did stop talking and started reading again. But because Sam was a fucking asshole, Dean was now trying (and failing) to actively avoid working out what the fuck he was so upset about  _ now. _

Figuring that out would take too long, so he tried (and failed) to focus on research instead. 

* * *

Cas tried to give it  _ back.  _

Dean wasn't upset exactly. He understood that Cas hadn't ever been given a gift like this before, so he wasn't well-versed in how these things went. Still, he was mildly irritated that he had to face the awkwardness of this yet  _ again.  _ He just wanted to give someone important to him a fucking gift without having to ever think about the implications of it. 

Instead, he had to sigh, question his life decisions, and say, "It's a gift. You keep those." 

Cas seemed slightly taken aback, blinking a bit more rapidly than he ever did. "Oh," he murmured, eyebrows furrowing. "Thank you, Dean." 

Dean had dug himself this hole; there was no way he was getting out of it. Explaining to Cas that he was just worried about him was a bit of a revelation and an understatement all at once. While Dean was  _ aware  _ that he'd been worried, he hadn't realized just how much it had gotten under his skin, eating away at him and festering. In fact, that was why he was so upset, just because he was  _ concerned,  _ like he was some kind of fretting husband or some shit. 

No wonder he was so pissed off. 

But to just say that he'd been worried was immensely downgrading the absolute shitty feeling he carried around him on a daily basis when yet another sunrise brought a new day where Cas wouldn't confirm his vital signs or whereabouts. He'd literally made Cas a mixtape just because he  _ missed  _ him, and that was...well, that was just too much to contemplate. 

To try and get some space to focus all his attention on avoiding whatever was going on in his head, Dean ushered Cas into his room with strict instructions to stay put while he went out to track Sam's progress. Cas--like the adorable weirdo he was--simply stood in the middle of the room with a patient look on his face and didn't move, which made Dean feel embarrassingly relieved. 

When Dean made it to the table, Sam was hunched over a book as if he was about to fall head-first into it. Seriously, it looked like he was trying to absorb words right into his brain. It couldn't be healthy. This was exactly why Dean had to take breaks from research; words started to blur, and with his life, he couldn't be sure he wouldn't be transported straight into some ritualistic book with no way out. 

"Got anything?" Dean asked, bracing his hands on the table and eyeing Sam warily. He had that slightly crazed look in his eyes, all lit up like there were answers just on the other side of eighteen more hours of no sleep. 

Sam's blinked at him. "There's something, but I just don't know  _ what.  _ Cas have any ideas?" 

"Besides phoning a friend and seeing how angels take to babysitting?" Dean arched an eyebrow. "No. What breakthrough are you on the edge of?" 

"There's a connection I'm drawing, but I can't be sure it will work. Between finding Kelly, figuring out a way to handle the baby  _ without  _ extreme measures, and research on nephilim…I'm not sure if  _ anything  _ will work," Sam admitted, wrinkling his nose. 

Dean pursed his lips. "Do we at least have any ideas on how to track Dagon?" 

"That's just the thing, I don't think we should." 

"What the fuck do you mean? We need to--" 

"No, hear me out." Sam pushed a couple books out of the way and snatched a different one up. "Why track her if we could track the baby? I mean, okay, it won't be  _ exact,  _ but he is half-angel." 

"Okay, that's a start," Dean said, snapping a finger and tugging out a chair to sit down. His phone started going off, but this was way more important, so he distractedly cut the ringer down without even looking. "We can worry about what to do with the son of Satan once we have him and Kelly." 

"I actually might have an idea for that." 

"Jesus, you've been busy. Okay, hit me." 

Sam leaned forward and slid more books aside. "I know it's not a fond memory, but do you remember how we tried to track Gadreel with some of the grace that was left in me?" 

"Yeah," Dean said warily. 

"We know that grace extraction is a thing. It happened to Cas, Anna sort of did it to herself, and we did it for finding Gadreel." Sam threaded his fingers together. "What if we were able to extract the baby's grace? Or whatever he has?" 

Dean leaned back in his chair, reaching in his pocket to cut his phone off as he heard the ringtone continue. Fuck, his phone was so shitty. "It's not a serious guarantee, but it's a fucking plan, and at this point, I'll take what I can get." 

"Look, we know she should be giving birth around May 18th, so as long as we have her under our protection by then, we should be in the clear. We can work with this, Dean." 

"No, no, I agree. I mean, hell, how many times have we faced the end of all things and fucking handled it, right? It's a shot, at the very least." 

Sam nodded. "So, we track the baby and-- Dean, what are you doing, dude?" 

"Someone keeps fucking--" Dean snapped his mouth closed as he stared at his blank phone screen. It was still off, not making a sound. "What the fuck?" 

"Dean?" Sam frowned at him. "You good?" 

Dean stared around the room, holding up a hand, eyebrows crumbling together. "Shh, shh. Do you hear that? It's--there's...music?" 

Sam blinked and cocked his head, lips tipping down as he warily looked around the room. "Uh, no? Dean, I don't hear shit." 

"No, seriously. It's Ramble On. I know Led Zeppelin, Sam," Dean snapped, scooting his chair back as he stood up. "You really can't hear that?" 

"No, I can't." Sam's voice took an odd pitch that Dean hadn't heard before. "Dean, there's no music." 

"Yes, there is. It's changing now." Dean frowned as the transition smoothed over into…

Dean could feel the color draining from his face as the next song drifted through his mind, the all too familiar intro to Black Dog playing softly for only two pairs of ears to hear. He stood stock still, heart stuck somewhere between being frozen and attempting to escape his chest cavity. The song played through, and he waited for the next, somehow just  _ knowing  _ what would come. And sure enough, after standing there in complete silence and stillness with his little brother gazing up at him with wide eyes, Dean listened to Black Dog predictably transition into Immigrant Song with a slight crackle that he'd done his best to erase. 

"Dean?" Sam asked carefully. 

Dean gritted his teeth. "You've got to be fucking  _ kidding  _ me," he hissed, whirling around on his heel and marching back towards his room. 

He didn't allow himself one moment of hesitation, simply busted in his room in one steady stride. Cas was sat on the edge of his bed, Dean's chunky headphones over his head, eyes closed, and his hands cradling Dean's slightly busted up cassette player. Whatever wind Dean had left every single one of his sails and he came to a stuttering halt, heart finally settling on striving to break a couple of ribs. 

Sam's heavy footfalls came to a halt behind him, and though he said not one word, Dean could practically  _ feel  _ the realization waiting to be spoken. 

Cas suddenly opened his eyes, then blinked and tugged off the headphones. "Is everything--" 

"Oh, come  _ on,"  _ Dean interrupted, jerking one hand at him wildly, "you don't even have a soul!" 

"Dean," Sam said warningly. 

Dean whirled on him. "Stay out of this, Sam." 

"I do, actually," Cas put in, frowning slightly. "I'm not sure how it's relevant, but I can confirm that I do. While grace and souls are different, angels have both. It's how we retain memories and can live without our grace, but our souls are inherently different from a human's. Though, after losing my grace, my soul is much like a human's." 

Dean whipped back around to stare at Cas again, clenching his fists so hard that he could feel his fingernails leaving marks in his palms. "Have you seriously never once listened to music by yourself before right now?" 

"I...don't know?" Cas tilted his head, suddenly looking uncertain. "I know it may seem that I'm gone very often, but I'm generally around the both of you, and my free time is usually spent doing things of importance." 

"Dean, you  _ know  _ how this works," Sam spoke up cautiously. "He has to actually be  _ listening.  _ It can't just be...background, you know. When have you ever known Cas to just listen to music,  _ actually  _ listen?" 

Cas awkwardly sat the cassette player aside. "I apologize if I did something wrong. You insisted that it was a gift, so I assumed I was allowed to listen to it. If I was wrong, I won't do it again." 

"Oh my god," Sam choked out. 

"Okay, okay, just--Sam, get the fuck out." Dean turned around and started ushering a flummoxed Sam towards the door. "Just keep researching and let me--let me just… Fuck, just get out." 

When Dean slammed the door shut, the last thing he saw before he flipped the lock was the strange mixture of delight and worry battling away in Sam's expression. The moment Sam's steps drifted off as he walked away, Dean allowed himself a moment to just breathe, closing his eyes and pressing his forehead to the cool surface of his door. 

He had a fucking headache. 

Slowly, he let out a long breath and turned around to stare at Cas. "But I'm not even…" Dean trailed off helplessly, just staring. 

"Dean?" Cas hadn't ever looked so...hesitant before. He clearly had no idea what the fuck was going on. 

"Cas, I need you to do me a favor, okay? Can you  _ please  _ put the headphones back on and listen again, just to make sure I'm not fucking insane?" Dean asked, broadening his stance and shoving his hands to his sides and pinning them down with his arms. 

Cas narrowed his eyes, but said, "If you'd like." 

It was as if Dean had a soundtrack in his own head, just playing in his mind simply because Cas was listening. He knew every word already, but the song sounded new this way, only because it was through Cas' ears that he was hearing it. Every note seemed different and strangely the same, the volume just a croon drifting along like background music he could ignore if he  _ really  _ wanted to. 

Dean jerked a hand out and waved his fingers, beckoning for the cassette player and headphones. Cas slowly tugged the headphones and passed them over, eyes squinted in his familiar frustrated confusion. 

"Can you hear this?" Dean asked quietly, then proceeded to put the headphones on and listen to the mixtape he made with his own ears. 

Cas nodded, and as Dean pulled everything away and tossed it on the bed, he said, "Yes." 

"How long have you been hearing the music I listen to in your head, Cas?" 

"Since I've known you." 

"And you never thought to  _ mention  _ it?" Dean snapped, reaching up to shove a hand in his hair. 

"I told you we had a profound bond," Cas replied a bit defensively, lips pressing into a thin line. "I wasn't aware that me hearing the music you heard was such an issue. It's not the same as reading minds; I can't actually  _ control  _ it." 

"Yes, I know that, Cas. Jesus fucking-- Do you even listen to me? Don't you remember me telling you about Jess? Sam's fucking  _ soulmate?"  _

"Yes, she died on--" 

"Okay! But do you remember how they  _ knew  _ they were soulmates? How  _ all  _ humans know they're soulmates?" Dean cut him off harshly. 

Cas frowned at him. "Telepathic connection with music as a form of communication." 

_ "No,  _ Cas. They could hear whatever song the other was listening to. Just like  _ we  _ can." Dean wanted to bang his head against a wall. "You're my soulmate, Cas. That's what I'm trying to tell you." 

"No, we're not," Cas replied calmly, not even batting an eye. "Angels don't have soulmates." 

"But they have  _ souls."  _

"Well...yes." 

"Which means…" Dean waved his hands in the universal gesture of  _ hurry the fuck up and get it.  _

Cas scowled. "I'm not an idiot, Dean. I'm aware of what you're insinuating, but it's simply not possible. We may have souls, but our father never designed soulmates for angels. We were meant to be his followers, his soldiers, nothing more." 

"Okay, but you've been a human, haven't you? And no offense, but you're not exactly a poster-boy for a perfect angel." 

"That is accurate, yes, but--" 

"I'm hearing a whole lot of protesting and denial, but this isn't something you can just argue. It's the way things  _ work,  _ Cas. People with souls have soulmates; they can hear what song the other is listening to. We can do that, me and you, right now. That means we're fucking soulmates," Dean explained, waving a hand between them pointedly. 

"I'm not sure I agree." 

"You can't just-- Cas, this isn't something you can just  _ decide  _ isn't true." 

"I understand why you'd think--" 

"I don't  _ think,  _ I know. It's as simple--" 

"It's  _ not  _ as simple as that." Cas stood up abruptly, jaw clenched visibly. "Even if it were the case, wasn't it  _ you  _ who said in grandiose detail that soulmates were worthless? Weren't  _ you  _ the one who told anyone who'd listen that if you had a soulmate, you'd want nothing to do with them, that you didn't appreciate being set up with someone against your will? Didn't you, after only a month of knowing me, go on a drunken rant about how soulmates are, and I quote, a crock of shit that you despise more than any monster in the world?" 

Which...yeah. Dean  _ did  _ do and say all of those things, and he mostly believed it too. To be fair, he hadn't exactly predicted  _ this.  _

The thing about it was, Dean genuinely wasn't a fan of the way soulmates worked. He was as annoyed with it as he was with Cupids flying around and assigning soulmates because God pinned it on the bulletin board before leaving. What was the point of Free Will, of Eve eating that apple, if God was just going to wave a hand and make things go his way? It was like cheating, only a lot more invasive. 

Soulmates, as a rule, affected everything. Each new generation got better about it, Dean would admit, but it was still a focal point in life. It was like planned marriages, a copout for faux happiness because something told the world that was how it was meant to be. And what about the deaf people; didn't their soulmates deserve to hear music from them too? What about the people who's soulmates died young? What about the people who fell in love but weren't soulmates? Dean just didn't  _ like  _ it; he thought it was fucked up. It didn't help matters that believing he never had, and never would have a soulmate left him feeling defective. 

So,  _ yeah,  _ Dean was pretty passionate about the subject, and he  _ had  _ said all of those things, probably a lot more as well. 

But. 

The softer part of Dean had ached for a soulmate since he was a child, since the moment his mother told him the story of his father listening to music to convey feelings. She'd smile and say, "We'd had a fight, so he sat down and listened to the most romantic song on repeat just to apologize," and something in Dean's young mind had  _ soared.  _

Mary used to stroke his cheek and sing Hey Jude, murmuring that she hoped Dean's soulmate enjoyed it as well, and she'd smile so tenderly when Dean would beam and listen as hard as he could in hopes that his soulmate could hear too. 

Something small and broken in Dean had craved the simplicity of having a soulmate since he was young enough to understand that the happiness his parents presented was practically fate. He  _ wanted  _ that, wanted what they had. Even so young, he knew he wanted to have someone he could share a connection with, someone he could convey what he wanted to without ever opening his mouth, someone who enjoyed hearing his mother's lullabies as much as he did. Of course, back then, he hadn't even considered the romantic prospects of it, but he'd hoped for it all the same. Before sleeping every night, he'd kneel at the side of his bed with his mom watching him with a fond smile, and he'd pray to God that his soulmate was someone really nice who liked pies and Batman. 

All he'd wanted, all he'd idolized, all he'd prayed for...and he'd never gotten it. Not only that, but it had been tarnished with Mary's death, then Jess', and Dean openly despised it after that. 

As it turned out, not only was his soulmate situation bleak, it was now also fucking  _ problematic.  _

"Okay, so yeah, I said those things," Dean admitted awkwardly, scratching his eyebrow and watching Cas stand up straighter. "And I meant them. It  _ is  _ fucked up that God went this route, it  _ is  _ an invasion of privacy, and it  _ is  _ wrong to base your entire life around soulmates." 

Cas nodded. "Yes. So, why are we even having this conversation?" 

"I said all those things  _ before  _ I had a soulmate, Cas. You gotta know I wasn't talking shit about  _ you."  _

"I'm aware." 

"Look, I'm not-- I ain't sayin' that you being my soulmate makes any of that shit less true, but this isn't something people just  _ ignore,  _ Cas." 

"Why?" 

Dean blinked. "Uh, I don't… I wasn't raised that way, I guess. I'm not sure if  _ anyone  _ was raised to ignore it. Soulmates are a pretty big deal." 

"But you despise it," Cas insisted, narrowing his eyes at Dean suspiciously. 

"Well, yeah." Dean rolled his eyes and scrubbed a hand down his face. "Look, it's not like we gotta run off and get married or anything. I'm just  _ saying  _ that you have to at least acknowledge it." 

Cas raised both eyebrows. "Yes, because you're one to acknowledge things you'd rather avoid." 

Okay, that hurt. Just a bit. It was true, but still. Dean sighed and felt his shoulders sag. "Well, in this case, I'm not actively running from-- wait." The words finally caught up with him, and Dean went stiff as he processed them. "You want to avoid this?" 

"I'd prefer it if you didn't see me differently simply because we can hear songs between us. It isn't quite as big of a deal to me as it seems to be for you, but you've made it quite clear throughout the years that you'd rather not deal with it at all." Cas didn't so much as twitch, giving nothing away with his expression. "I respect your preferences, Dean, including the one aligning you with women and  _ not  _ men. I'm content to act as if this never happened, as I'm sure you are." 

Dean cleared his throat. "Oh. Right, okay, yeah. So, we just...continue on as we have?" 

"I don't see why not," Cas agreed with a stiff shrug. 

Dean saw why not. He  _ really  _ saw why not, but he also saw an  _ out,  _ which is exactly what he should want, so he took it. "Okay, sure, I'm cool with that." 

Cas simply looked at him, large blue eyes unblinking as if he had the power to peer straight through to Dean's soul. Dean vaguely wondered what it looked like, what Cas' looked like, what the tendrils that tied them together looked like. Staring at Cas wasn't helping, not that it ever did, but he'd done it so much at this point, and felt better for it, so he allowed himself a long moment to just get sucked into it. 

Dean knew he shouldn't do it, but he was mentally and physically unable to stop himself. There he was, just doing that weird gazing thing they sometimes did, and he couldn't help but do exactly as Cas hoped he wouldn't. He looked at Cas  _ differently,  _ mind opening up the Cas door and rearranging the furniture, slapping a soulmate sticker on the walls like caution tape. It was too new, too much, too...important. 

Dean felt like he was going to be sick. 

"Well, we know a way to fix the demon child," he blurted out, practically  _ aching  _ for some sense of normalcy, and this must have been really bad if the son of Satan was a better thing to focus on. 

Cas blinked. "You do?" 

"Yeah, Cas, we do," Dean said. 

For the first time since all this shit happened, Dean found himself thankful for the devil spawn. If nothing else, it gave himself something else to focus on besides the fact that he had a soulmate after all, who just happened to be his angel best friend. 

Talk about a life of fucking surprises. 

* * *

Learning how close Cas came to taking the colt and running had Dean on edge for days. Cas had, of course, came right out and admitted to his plan bluntly with undertones of guilt, going on to say that he was thankful that such measures weren't going to be taken. If Dean wasn't Cas' soulmate, he never would have heard the mixtape, and Cas would have been gone with the colt by the time he'd thought to search him out again. 

Instead, because God was a cheeky asshole, he'd caught Cas before he could leave and gave the alternative. So, score one for Soulmates. 

Dean was still pissed about it. In a world where soulmates weren't a thing, this would be a very different story. Cas could think of it as a trainwreck well avoided all he wanted, but Dean was fixated on the fact that Cas planned to do it at all. So, score one  _ against  _ soulmates. 

However, soulmates aside, they had a job to do. 

First, they had to track the baby to locate Kelly. Then, they had to get Kelly away from Dagon. After that, they had to escort Kelly safely back to the bunker. And finally, they'd need to turn one antichrist into a simple human baby. While all of this seemed simple enough in  _ theory,  _ they were all aware that nothing in their lives were simple. 

Sam was possibly the most (and only) cheerful one out of their trio. He kept looking between Dean and Cas with a stupidly proud expression, his smile bright despite the literal peril that awaited them. But he was always like that about soulmates, believing them to be a gift and something special, in spite of (and possibly  _ because  _ of) his experience with his own. Dean did his best to ignore it, and Cas seemed as if he didn't find anything amiss. 

The travel time was always a bit underwhelming compared to what happened when they officially got wherever they were trying to go. In this case, it was no different; it took nearly two days of consistent driving to get within spitting distance of Kelly and Dagon. Those two days were mostly normal, despite the circumstances of literally everything--from the devil spawn, to the fact that Cas and Dean were soulmates. The only major change was that whenever Dean separated from Cas, whether to go pay for gas or hotel rooms, he always shut off the radio before getting out. This was another thing no one mentioned, though Sam made a few expressions that Cas and Dean pointedly ignored. 

Then came obtaining a very pregnant Kelly. 

As predicted, it did not go as smoothly as they'd hoped. Finding her wasn't  _ that  _ much of an issue, not with Cas, but getting her away from Dagon was where the problems came in. Kelly, fortunately, could recognize a lesser of two evils and didn't make it easy for Dagon to keep her in grasp. 

Dean was in charge of shooting Dagon, as he was notoriously known for  _ not  _ missing with a gun. Usually. She wasn't easy to kill, even if the colt was a strong advantage, but Cas really pulled his weight this time. With a simple distraction, Dagon was stuck between trying to fight Cas and keep Kelly from Sam, which left her on the wrong end of a bullet. One harrowing display later, they had Kelly safely away from anyone trying to either use her baby as a resource or those trying to kill it. 

Dean didn't waste any time. "We're not staying here. We can handle any issues back at the bunker where no one can play hot potato with the antichrist." 

They all ushered back into Baby with Dean behind the wheel, Sam in the passenger, and Cas in the back with a strangely quiet Kelly. 

Traveling with a pregnant woman was wildly different than traveling with an angel with no needs and two men who'd been trained from a young age to control their bladder. Dean played it smart, however. They stopped at gas stations to live off unhealthy snacks and use tiny, less than pristine bathrooms without any windows to slip out of. It definitely wasn't the best accommodations, a fact that Kelly had no shame in voicing, but Dean figured that two days wouldn't kill her and being safe was better than being sorry. And when they arrived at the bunker with no run-ins, he felt himself relax for the very first time since all this shit began when the door clanged shut with everyone safely inside. 

"Well, it's better than what I was staying in with Dagon, I'll give you that," Kelly admitted, staring around with wide eyes as she descended the stairs with Cas helping her not trip. 

Sam winced. "Sorry, I know it seems like you've just been passed around between a lot of people who want to hurt you and your baby, but we genuinely just want to help." 

Kelly rubbed her belly as Cas dropped her arm. She glanced between the three of them. "I think I get that. He seems calmer; I think he likes you three better than my last babysitter." 

"What, the baby?" Dean asked, eyeing her stomach a little warily. "You can feel what he does?" 

"Sort of." Kelly gave a little smile. "It's complicated, but he's definitely stopped kicking my spleen since we started traveling with you guys." 

Dean snorted. "Well, that's probably the best review we've ever gotten. Five stars from baby Satan; I'll take it." 

"Dean," Cas scolded absentmindedly, walking towards the kitchen with an unironic swish of his trenchcoat. 

Dean made a face at Cas' back while Sam cleared his throat and gave Kelly a tight smile. "Don't mind Dean, he's just an ass. Anyway, I can show you where you'll be sleeping and showering, and there isn't really anywhere you  _ can't  _ go besides a few rooms we have locked for all our safety." 

"What about outside?" Kelly asked, flicking her eyes towards the door. 

"No." Dean pinned a serious look on her, holding her gaze steadily. "We don't want you to feel like a prisoner, but it's not safe out there for you or your baby. I know underground bunker isn't exactly the ideal place to be in your situation, but it's better to be alive, don't ya think?" 

Cas came back into the room with a water bottle, throwing another scolding look at Dean. "We might have a way of making all of this better for you. We hope to make it possible for you to go out in the world and raise your baby with no issues." 

"Wait, I thought-- Is that even possible?" Kelly visibly perked up as she took the water bottle that was offered to her. "Dagon said--" 

"She was a demon; they lie." Dean sighed and reached up to rub his temples. "Look, we're going to do everything we can to help, but we need a fucking break. We've been going nonstop since we lost you last, and frankly, I'd like to eat, sleep, then deal with the rest tomorrow." 

Kelly's eyebrows furrowed like she wanted to argue, but she released a small sigh. "Fine." 

Dean nodded. "Thanks. You seriously have  _ no idea  _ what I've been through in this last week." He ignored the look Cas threw him. "Alright, I'm gonna cook. Since you're eating for two, do you have any preferences? I'm no chef, but I can probably whip something up you'd like." 

"Oh. Oh god." Kelly's eyes lit up. "Do you know what I really,  _ really  _ want?" 

"Not until you tell me," Dean replied, eyebrows raising as her eyes seemed to glaze over. 

"Pasta. I'd probably kill for pasta. Just--literally any kind of pasta," Kelly muttered. 

Dean huffed a quiet laugh. "Alright, you got it. Sam, Cas, show her around while I cook." 

With that, they broke apart to do as he said, Kelly waddling in a frankly amusing way as she stood between two very patient men. Dean got into the kitchen and decided lasagna was about as pasta as pasta got, so he set to do that. 

Later, when Kelly practically cried into her plate, Sam grinned around his fork, and Cas looked slightly concerned, Dean sighed happily into his beer and felt as if everything would be alright. Maybe just this once, things would work out. Just as long as he ignored the other major thing that had been plaguing him since that godforsaken mishap with the mixtape and having a soulmate all along. 

When he fell asleep later, it was with headphones over his ears as he listened to Livin' on a Prayer and wondered how much Cas enjoyed Bon Jovi. 

* * *

Living with Kelly was...different. 

Dean had assumed that he'd be annoyed with the experience, but he was finding that not to be the case. Despite their wildly opposite backgrounds, Kelly was surprisingly a lot like him. She had a love of food, an aversion to overexertion, and she was as pig-headed and stubborn as they come. 

The first time Sam asked her if she'd like to do some light yoga, Kelly had looked at him as if he'd grown an extra head and plopped down to watch  _ The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly  _ with Dean instead. She also spent a lot of time in the kitchen with Dean, sneaking food while he pretended not to notice, and it was  _ only  _ because she was pregnant that he didn't smack her hand with his various cooking utensils. Sam, as per usual, was not granted that leeway. 

Kelly liked her alone time, enjoyed two hour long showers, and had stolen nearly all of Sam's socks because they were long and warm. It had taken less than a week for all of this to become apparent. 

Another thing that Kelly liked--though, that was more to do with the baby's preference than hers--was Cas. She explained that she felt more stable with him around, plus the baby was less rambunctious when Cas was sat anywhere in her vicinity. When she couldn't get comfortable at night, she'd ask him to sit at her bedside until she fell asleep, and Cas never once refused her. 

Overall, Kelly seemed a lot happier about being with them rather than Dagon. 

There was one  _ slight  _ issue, however. 

When everything was explained, Kelly sat back in her chair and said, "Mm, I don't think so." 

"What?" Dean blurted, an  _ immediate  _ throb of pain setting up shop in his temple. 

"Yeah," Kelly said, lightly patting her stomach, then rubbing down in an arc, "he doesn't like that idea."

Sam's eyebrows rose. "Is  _ he  _ the one who should be making the decision? No offense, but he's literally an unborn fetus, and  _ you're  _ the mother." 

"I trust his judgement," Kelly replied simply. 

Dean reached up to rub his temple. "Okay, look, I can't even  _ begin  _ to explain what's wrong with what you just said, but--" 

"You'll die." Cas sat forward and leaned on his elbows, holding Kelly's gaze. "I'm sure Dagon forgot to mention that, or didn't express the severity of it, but you will die during childbirth. You won't survive it, no matter how much you try." 

"Jesus, Cas," Dean muttered, wrinkling his nose as Kelly's eyes shined with newly formed tears. 

"I kinda...figured," Kelly admitted, her shoulders visibly slumping. 

Cas didn't so much as bat an eye at her blatant sadness. "If we do this, if you allow us to, you will stand a chance at surviving it. You'll be able to see your baby grow, you'll raise him, you'll both be safe. His judgement aside, this is the better option." 

Silence settled down at the table they were all sitting at, joining them like an unwelcome guest. Kelly turned her head to press her mouth against her shoulder and blink hard, her fingers twisting the material of the sweater that pulled taut around the swell of her stomach. Her leg began to jump, an anxious gesture, and her eyes closed as she inhaled deeply, her knuckles going white as she fisted the sweater and held on for dear life. 

Dean's heart went out to her. In the face of her life, he was very aware of how lucky he was to not have that amount of stress. It wasn't his place to make these decisions, even if he thought he knew what was best--it was  _ her  _ body, after all. No matter what, they wouldn't force her to do anything she didn't want to do. He could try to sway her, but in the end, she was the one who gave the green light (or red), and they would respect that. 

Sam--sweet, kind,  _ patient  _ Sam--reached out to gently peel her hands away from the sweater. "It can wait. You've got time, okay? We'll get everything figured out and ready in case you do, and if you don't...well. Why don't you and the, uh, baby...think it over, then let us know?" 

Kelly took in a deep breath and nodded, her throat bobbing as she slowly pushed to her feet. "Yeah, that's--yeah. I'm gonna go lay down, I'm just really...tired now, but I'll-- I'll let you know." 

As she waddled away, a slight slump of exhaustion to her stature, they all stayed silent and stared after her. It was only after her door clicked shut faintly from the hall that Dean realized he was holding his breath. He exhaled slowly and leaned back, reaching up to swipe a hand over his mouth. 

"I assumed that she'd be pleased with this particular route," Cas murmured, his eyebrows furrowed in that usual way, suggesting confusion. 

Sam tutted sadly and stood up, lightly tapping his knuckles against the tabletop. "Never assume, Cas. You ain't never heard the saying: don't assume, it just makes an ass out of you and me." 

Cas' lips tilted down. "Ah, a play on words. Humans are so creative." 

"And they're also  _ full  _ of surprises," Sam told him quietly, pushing his chair in. "I'm going to go check on her, then take a shower." 

As Sam swept off, Cas turned to Dean, a strange fondness in his gaze as he said, "That, I already knew. You taught me that." 

"What, that humans are full of surprises?" Dean asked, blinking rapidly. 

"Yes," Cas confirmed. "It was the first lesson in humanity that you ever taught me." 

Dean snorted. "Yeah, sounds like me. What was the surprise? Didn't exactly fit the bill for the Righteous Man, did I? Wasn't what you were expecting?" 

"No," Cas said, lips quirking up, "I didn't  _ expect  _ anything, as I had only focused on my mission back then. Actually, you surprised me by liking me, even when you liked no other angel." 

"Ah." Despite himself, Dean could feel the corners of his lips curling up to match. "Yeah, well, I guess you weren't like any of the others." 

Cas tilted his head. "No, Dean, that was why it was so surprising. I was no better, yet you still looked at me and saw something worth caring for." 

"Makes sense, I guess," Dean mumbled, clearing his throat as he averted his eyes. "Maybe I knew, even back then, even if I didn't know. You know?"

"You mean that we're...soulmates." Abruptly, Cas' little smile vanished. "Is that what you're--" 

Dean shrugged slightly. "Yeah, man. That would explain the instant connection, right?" 

Cas didn't reply for a long moment, his jaw clenched so tight that his cheek jumped. Dean was suddenly very aware that he fucked up somehow, but he had no idea what he'd done wrong--if anything, he'd think that he was being...well,  _ sweet.  _ Not that he was attempting to be, or hedging to try and be a thing with Cas, but it was definitely a softer moment than usual. Yet, Cas looked ready to fling the table in a dramatic, angelic temper tantrum. 

Still, all Cas did was stand up, pin Dean with a scowl, and say, "Of course, Dean," before whirling around and marching off in a distinctly pissed-off stride. 

Dean stared around at the empty table and sighed. 

* * *

Cas cornered him two days later. 

Well, it wasn't like Dean was avoiding him. He'd pretty much been the same as usual, except for the headphones he's had shoved in his ears ever since he'd pissed Cas off. Partially to annoy him, partially to exploit the new dynamic they have, Dean had been walking around and listening to  _ If I Could Turn Back Time  _ by Cher on repeat, and he was determined enough to continue to do so until Cas couldn't take it anymore. It didn't matter that Sam grinned every time he saw him with his headphones in, or that Cas continued to pretend he didn't exist, or even that Kelly was beginning to connect the dots between all of these admittedly obvious clues. 

As it turned out, Cas didn't break under the strain, but he was a good friend, despite all his mistakes. After the song played on a loop for two days and  _ Dean  _ was beginning to hate it, Cas walked into his room and stared at him blankly until the song was finally, blissfully put on pause. 

"Tired of it yet?" Dean asked, tugging the shitty headphones from his ears and flexing his jaw. He blinked rapidly and cringed at the strangeness of hearing something besides Cher. "Wow, you're going to have to quit being pissy, Cas; I'm not sure if I can do that anymore. Fuck, my ears  _ hurt."  _

Cas arched an eyebrow. "I have little to no sympathy for you, as you put yourself in the position." 

Dean snorted. "Yeah, that sums up my life." He cleared his throat and rubbed his hands together, eyeing Cas warily. "So, you're talking to me again?" 

"I figured I would put you out of your self-induced misery, yes." Cas' lips tightened in such a way that Dean knew to mean he was still displeased. "Not that you didn't deserve it." 

"I'm sure I did," Dean muttered, "I always do. Look, you gotta help me out here, man. I don't know what you want me to do, or  _ not  _ do, and I'm gonna fuck up if you don't give me a guideline." 

"I don't want you to  _ do,  _ or not do anything at all. Be as you've always been," Cas told him seriously. 

Dean wasn't sure exactly what to say to that. For him, it wasn't something he could just  _ ignore.  _ Maybe angels didn't care, or Cas specifically, but humans weren't afforded that luxury. Being spoon-fed from birth the awesomeness that was soulmates didn't actually help him to brush it off. And, even with the endless tragedy that came with his interactions with the whole soulmate thing, Dean had never quite learned how not to yearn for one. No matter the anger and bitterness he held close and spewed to anyone who'd listen, he couldn't completely snuff out the hope that his soul was worthy enough to connect to another. 

The fact that  _ Cas  _ was the owner of the soul who his shared a tie with was just...mind-blowing. Not even that he was an angel, not even that he was fucking older than dirt and a warrior, but that it was  _ Cas.  _

There was a strange comfort in that, even if Cas was dude-shaped. Sure, it didn't align to Dean's preferences, but soulmates weren't about  _ sex.  _ It wasn't even a fucking requirement; it was just the other soul that found home next to his. Dean liked that, liked it more than he could say, or  _ would  _ say, and he couldn't just...wave it off. 

It was like a condensed list, letting his mind know how to categorize his love. Sam: brother, family. Cas: best friend, soulmate. And he'd never really had a way to organize his love for Cas, to put it in a box that it would fit in, that would explain the tremulous path his love for Cas took. But soulmate? Fuck, that was a done-deal, case-closed, box finally checked, and it was like a breath of fresh air. 

And here Cas was, basically telling him that it wasn't worth noting at all. 

Still, soulmates didn't guarantee happiness, and it wasn't Dean's place to demand anything if Cas didn't want to give it, so he said, "Right, so you wanna just...kamikaze the whole soulmate thing, then? I mean, you're right, it doesn't  _ change  _ anything. You know what, let's just--let's pretend it didn't even happen. We're just us, and that's--it's good." 

Finally, Dean must have said something right, because Cas' face split into one of his rare smiles that crinkled the corners of his eyes. He nodded once, clearly pleased with this suggestion. "I think that would be best," he agreed. 

"Right," Dean said, tucking his chin to his chest and staring at his lap. "Yeah, 'course, whatever works best. Just, ya know, don't go listening to any Taylor Swift and we'll be fine." 

"Dean," Cas said calmly, blue eyes sparked with humor when Dean dared to look up, "we all know you enjoy her music." 

"Shut up," Dean replied automatically, by rote. He flapped a hand towards the door. "If you're gonna be talking shit, you can hit the door." 

Cas dipped his head, a smile still playing around the corners of his lips. "Goodnight, Dean. Sleep well." 

Dean watched Cas leave, bottom lip caught between his teeth, and he tried to ignore the distress that seemed to endlessly flutter in his chest. He was about as good at that as he was at pretending that Cas being his soulmate meant nothing. 

Dean did not, in fact, sleep well. 

* * *

Kelly made her decision when the week came to a close. Right in the middle of dinner--perfectly seasoned pork chops because Dean was in a  _ mood.  _ Her fork clattered to the plate and she sat forward, slamming her hand down on the table. It was abrupt enough to cut Sam's laughter off as he nearly choked on a bite of green beans, so caught up in some story Dean was pulling out of his ass. 

They all stopped and stared at her, and she simply blinked before saying, "Yeah, okay, I'll do it." 

Dean didn't have to ask her what she meant. None of them had to. Still, he checked, "You sure?" 

"He doesn't...like the idea, but it's the best option, right?" Kelly averted her eyes towards her plate, lips twisting. Quietly, she choked out, "I want to raise my son. I want him to be safe." 

"Why isn't he on board?" Dean muttered awkwardly, jerking his chin at her stomach. 

Kelly tilted her chin up, holding Dean's gaze with a determined glint in her eyes. "He isn't  _ bad.  _ I know what you think, what everyone thinks, but he's just a baby,  _ my  _ baby. He wants to do good, and he has the power to do it. Maybe I shouldn't take that from him. He doesn't want it taken from him." 

There was silence for a moment. It reached unbearable levels until Sam cleared his throat and said, "Kelly, we've been in this business for a  _ long  _ time, and I know it's hard to--" 

"No.  _ No."  _ Kelly's head whipped around towards Sam, her lips twisting again. "Don't spout that bullshit off to me. I was the secretary of the  _ President.  _ You don't think I've heard what you're about to say, that I haven't said it myself? It doesn't matter  _ what  _ it is, whether it's a statement on the brewing wars overseas or the supernatural, the tagline is the same. You have the experience, sure, and you know the ins and outs, yes, but you're not carrying the baby, are you? You don't feel him move, don't have a connection to him, don't know what  _ he  _ wants and needs.  _ I do.  _ So, don't. Just...don't." 

"That's not what I was going to say," Sam replied softly, eyes widening with sincerity. "I was just going to tell you that I know how hard it is to adjust to this life, the one that forces you to make these hard decisions. You're right, we don't have ties to that baby, and you're the one who has to do what's best for him. But we know what waits for him if you don't decide to do this. Yes, he'll be powerful, but all of heaven and hell will be after that power to either use it or snuff it out. But again, like you said, we can't tell you what to do, or what's best--all we can do is try and help you both." 

"It doesn't matter," Kelly muttered again, eyes dropping to her bulging stomach. "I'm not doing this because I'm scared of him. I don't want to change him, or take his power from him. He's not bad, I know that, even if no one else does. I'm only doing this because...I'm selfish." 

Dean blinked. "Wait, what?" 

"Yeah," Kelly laughed weakly, reaching up to scrub at her eyes, clearly crying or close to it. "Isn't that ironic as hell? I didn't want a child yet, you know? Jefferson and I were still very secretive, and we knew we weren't ready. But then--but  _ then,  _ it happened anyway, and it wasn't even Jefferson. It was--well, you all know. And the crazy part? I didn't want him, I didn't want  _ any  _ of this. But now? There's nothing in this world that I want more than to be able to be a mother to my son, to be able to protect him. See, it's not that I'm scared  _ of  _ him, it's that I'm scared  _ for  _ him, and for all the things I'll miss." 

"That's not selfish," Cas said, speaking up from where he'd been sitting silent and still, watching the conversation patiently. He stared at Kelly seriously, one corner of his lip curling up in what could only be described as awe. "For many,  _ many  _ years, I struggled to grasp what made humanity so...glorious. I learned that it was a multitude of many things; among them happens to be the true beauty of a parent's love for their child. It is unique, so much so that it cannot be replicated, as it is much too potent and inexplicable to try and fabricate. Not even heaven can form it, and it is the only form of love that can't be tainted once genuinely achieved." 

Dean tried not to stare at Cas so obviously, but it was impossible to hide. There was something moving about what he said. Cas wasn't one to lie, and he could be harsh at the best (and worst) of times, so this held merit. Dean had to remind himself to breathe. 

"Oh," Kelly said softly, blinking rapidly as she stared down at her stomach. Tears clung to her eyelashes as she hunched forward, lips mouthing words as she stroked her stomach. Abruptly, she broke out into a smile and snapped both hands out, grabbing one of Dean's and Sam's. "Feel this. He's so--he's happy!" 

Dean had to cling to the table so he wouldn't fall out of his seat, but he let Kelly drape his hand over the swell of her stomach. It was strange, and his fingers overlapped with Sam's awkwardly, but he wasn't going to be a dick and snatch away. Then, he nearly jerked back anyway when he felt the flurry of movement under his hand. 

The first thought that came to his head was  _ alien.  _ Stupid, but weirdly accurate. Just-- _ alien potato baby.  _ There were lumps under his hand, squirming and pushing into his palm, and it was quite possibly the most frightening thing he'd ever felt. But there was something about it, something otherworldly and magical--the miracle of life and all that. 

Sam's mouth formed a little circle, his eyes wide like he was contemplating whether to laugh in awe or shriek in shock. And when Dean looked up, breath pushing out of him as the baby gave his palm another solid nudge, Cas was simply staring from the other side of the table. 

"Feels strange," Dean admitted gruffly. "Doesn't that hurt at all?" 

Kelly wrinkled her nose. "Depends on his position, actually. Right now? It's just a tad uncomfortable. Sometimes it feels like he's playing soccer with my bladder." She shared a grin with Dean, then focused on Cas. "Wanna feel? Come here." 

"I'm not sure…" Cas eyed Kelly's stomach warily. 

"Oh, come on," Dean said, snorting, "the kid doesn't bite. Well, not yet, at least." 

At Dean's insistence, Cas slowly stood and shuffled around the table, his hand held out like he was about to burn a demon from its meatsuit. Sam immediately scooted back to give Cas room, seemingly reluctant to pull away. Dean slid his hand back to give some room and watched as Kelly grabbed Cas' hand, placing it between Dean and Sam's. The bumping under his hand flared up again, like the baby was stretching to accommodate the size of all their palms, and Cas blinked in slight surprise. 

"You made him happy," Kelly murmured, looking up at Cas. "With what you said, I mean. He doesn't feel as upset anymore. He loves me, I can feel it. He wants me to live." 

Cas gave her an awkward smile. "We all do." 

"And we'll make sure you will," Sam promised, staring at her as if his whole world had shifted from this one moment. Knowing him, it had. 

Kelly hummed and closed her eyes. "God, this feels so nice. He loves this. He loves...you. All of you." 

And that…

That was it. 

If Dean had any doubts before, they were completely irradiated. Obliterated into nothingness as a child he'd never even met yet became a part of his family, just as easy as that. He wasn't sure he wanted anything as bad as he wanted Kelly and this baby to live a long and prosperous life, and he knew he'd do anything to ensure that would come to fruition. 

Risking a glance up, Dean's heart nearly came to a stop in his chest. Cas looked pleased. It was such a stupid thing to be stunned by, but the utter contentment on his face was something Dean rarely saw. He wondered how best to keep that expression there, well aware he'd like to see it forever. 

He wanted to capture this moment and put it in a vault, so he'd never lose it. Sometimes, he thought he wanted to do the same to Cas, to keep him close and never have to get through life without him. 

A human who needed an angel. It was inevitable, really, that the angel then would lose its wings and very purpose. But that gave Dean a thought. 

An angel could not fall, not even just slightly, without choosing to. 

* * *

The process, as expected, was horrifying. 

It was so bad that Dean threw up, and usually, he had a pretty iron-clad stomach in most cases. But there was a lot of fluids, a lot of screaming, a lot of tears, and it soon became too unbearable. Between Kelly thrashing against Cas' unwavering grasp, Sam flinching every other second as he carefully used the needle, and the background of consistent screaming...Dean just couldn't take it. 

The vomiting came when Kelly reached out and snagged a fistful of his shirt, dragging him down to gaze into his eyes as she pleaded with him to make it stop,  _ just make it stop.  _

It took five hours with short breaks, and by the end, Kelly looked as if she had already given birth six times over. Sam seemed like a stray wind could knock him over. Dean knew he wasn't going to be able to eat dinner. And Cas...well, Cas was calm and collected, carrying the heavyweight of taking care of everyone while they recuperated, despite doing most of the work--outside of Kelly, of course. 

Cas did one fine sweep to make sure that the baby was human, but Kelly knew he was. 

Sobbing, she choked out, "I can't feel him anymore, not--not like before." 

It was a...hard time. For everyone involved. 

By the time Kelly was in her room, having cried herself to sleep, Sam was in the shower after Dean just got out, and Cas was doing his best to throw together a light dinner for everyone else...it just seemed as if everyone should sleep the horribleness off with a two-day nap. Naturally, there was much more to be done, and Dean couldn't just faceplant his bed as he so desired. 

"Soup?" Cas asked cautiously as entered the kitchen, stirring the spoon around the pot warily, as if he wasn't sure what he actually made  _ was  _ soup. 

Dean reached in the fridge to grab a beer, then moved over to lean against the edge of the counter beside Cas. He was staring off into the middle distance, mind fixated on the absolute horror-show that he wouldn't be forgetting anytime soon, and he mindlessly went about twisting the cap off his beer with a hiss and swallowing a deep gulp. As he brought the bottle down, still staring unseeingly across the room, a large plastic spoon entered his field of vision, hovering just before his mouth. 

Dean blinked. 

Cas was staring at the spoon with furrowed brows, cupping his hand beneath it, and he looked as if he was  _ daring  _ the soup to taste like shit--and if it did, he'd smite it into nothingness. 

Dean leaned forward and sipped some of the warm soup from the spoon before he even fully realized that Cas offering it to him. Not too bad, a bit too much salt, but pretty good otherwise. When Cas looked up at him expectantly, Dean quirked a small smile of approval. 

"We'll make a chef outta you yet," Dean murmured, watching Cas  _ immediately  _ take on an expression of pride as he sat the spoon back in the pot. 

"Perhaps I will save some for Kelly to eat when she wakes," Cas mused, reaching up to grab a container from the cabinet above Dean's right shoulder. 

The thing was, rather than asking Dean to move, or walking  _ around  _ him, Cas simply leaned in front of Dean, stretching up, his face just slightly above Dean's own as he stood on his tippy-toes. And you know, that was  _ fine,  _ that was normal, but Dean's mind wasn't quite in working order, and he just wasn't  _ thinking.  _

With no rhyme or reason, Dean reached out and grasped Cas' hip with his free hand, going as far as sliding it  _ in  _ Cas' trenchcoat and suit jacket, fingers draping over the thin cloth of his shirt and the smooth expanse of his worn belt. One of his nails caught on a belt loop, and Dean picked at it, mind a fuzzy line of nothingness. 

Cas paid him absolutely no mind, possibly not even noticing, and he obtained the container. It wasn't until he went to pull away--and Dean tightened his hold to keep him from moving away--that he actually reacted. Blinking ridiculously big blue eyes at him, Cas frowned in confusion. 

"D'ya think that he'll remember loving us?" Dean murmured, slowly moving his beer to the counter behind him to sit it down. 

"The baby." Cas frowned deeper, his eyes scanning Dean's face--far too close by social standards, but it was Dean's fault this time. "You're worried that we've made a mistake." 

Dean swallowed. "Did we?" 

"No, Dean," Cas said softly, "we didn't." 

It was a nice sentiment, even if they had no way of knowing if it was true. Dean appreciated it. Mostly though, he just wanted this day to be over. He wanted to be able to relax, to sink into his bed, sigh into some music, and  _ sleep.  _ And a deeper part of him that rarely rose up to the surface--only in times shitty as these, anyway--wanted deeply to get lost in someone else, to find comfort in another person, to be able to be vulnerable in other ways, rather than this one. 

For Dean, it was usually some woman from a bar. 

But he didn't want to go to a bar, didn't want to get in his car and drive, didn't want to have to smile at a woman and pretend he was someone else. For once, just this once, he wanted to have someone who didn't require the energy it took to lie. Better yet, someone that he didn't even have to work that hard for. 

It was times like this that Dean randomly missed Lisa. She was perfect, in that case. She knew him and everything that came with him, and he never had to be anything but himself to be with her in  _ any  _ way. And shit, he could simply kiss her with intent if he wanted intimacy; she always knew, and she always gave it, and they were in a  _ relationship,  _ so that was the easiest part. Times like these? Yeah, they made Dean ache for the "apple-pie life" he rarely looked for anymore. 

Dean had wanted Lisa to be his soulmate  _ so badly.  _ And yet, she wasn't. No...Cas was.  _ Is.  _

It wasn't that Dean thought he was entitled to Cas now. He hadn't ever been with a man, and there was a big difference between finding them attractive and doing something about it. He hadn't ever actually thought to cross that line, or even examine either side of it. Women were easy, and he loved them, and that was the way it was for him. 

But here Cas was, male-shaped, standing close, his  _ literal  _ soulmate, and Dean just wanted…

He wanted, was the point. 

And like the impulsive asshole he was and always would be, Dean  _ took.  _ Without even really deciding to do so, he reached out to grasp Cas' other hip with his free hand, clamped down to steady them both, and then leaned forward to just...press their lips together. That's it. That's all he wanted, just the contact, the comfort, the chance to  _ connect.  _

Cas jerked back before their lips had done much more than brush, snatching back so violently that Dean's finger nearly got yanked off from where it was hooked on one of the belt loops. 

"Shit," Dean blurted, eyes going wide. 

See, that wasn't the plan. That was not the plan  _ at all.  _ Dean's first kiss with someone man-shaped, with his  _ soulmate,  _ and there hadn't been any build-up, or warning, or even a mutual desire. No, it had been bred purely from his own wish for comfort. 

Cas held up a finger, eyes narrowed into slits. "If you  _ ever  _ do that again…" He trailed off, so visibly pissed off that his lips trembled. He slowly lowered his finger and swallowed thickly. "Do not do that again, Dean. Never again, do you understand?" 

"M'sorry," Dean muttered gruffly, averting his eyes as shame washed over him, embarrassment and rejection prickling hot underneath his skin. Jesus, what the  _ fuck  _ was he thinking? "I, uh, wasn't trying to make you uncomfortable, man. I was just--" 

"Kissing your soulmate," Cas answered for him, tone sharp and unforgiving. 

Dean looked up. "Yeah," he croaked. 

"We agreed--" 

"I know, I just… I'm trying, okay?" 

"No," Cas hissed, nose wrinkling like it does when he's prepared for a fight. "You're  _ not  _ trying; this is the  _ opposite  _ of you trying. If you were, you would be moving in the other direction, rather than heading forward to try and make something out of nothing. We do not kiss. We have  _ never  _ kissed. What you're succeeding in  _ now  _ is--" 

"Jesus, fuck!" Dean exploded, hands flying up as he jerked away from the counter, his untoward emotions taking their regular route right to anger. "Excuse the fuck out of me. Maybe it wasn't about you  _ or  _ us, you asshole. Maybe I just wanted some fucking comfort, but I'll check myself next time!" 

Cas instantly dethawed, his expression turning contrite, and he quietly murmured, "Dean, I wasn't trying to refuse you comfort. I'm simply not--"

"Don't worry about it, Cas," Dean snapped harshly, stomping off towards the door, "I promise I won't make the same fucking mistake again." 

Leaving Cas behind, Dean vowed to do just that--never make that mistake again. However, he found no point in lying to himself; he didn't even try and commit to not  _ wanting  _ to. Even through his anger, he could still recall in startling clarity the feeling of their lips brushing, even if it had barely lasted for longer than a moment. 

Frustratingly enough, it was a feeling that followed him to his dreams, and as such, he didn't get one fucking wink of rest. 

Yeah, so much for comfort. 

* * *

Kelly gave birth four days later. 

She'd barely gotten to recover from the grace-extraction before Braxton-Hicks took her hostage. She'd been panicked at first, with good reason, because it was too early. But she quickly worked out that the strain from the extraction brought on her labor, and anyway, she was only a week and a half out from her due date, so not too early at all. Once that panic had absolved, there was room for her to freak out about the baby that was getting ready to exit her body. 

It became apparent that none of them were equipped to handle this, as it was Kelly's first baby, and the boys knew next to nothing about childbirth. And since Kelly  _ refused  _ to go to the hospital, still worried about the forces of heaven and hell, they didn't have a chance to pick out a doula. 

Dean called Mary. And Jody. And Donna. And Rowena. And--in one moment of frantic anxiety--Bobby, before remembering that he'd long been dead, which did them no favors currently. 

The point was, Dean called every woman who'd ever done this before, plus Donna, who would undoubtedly be a bright spot among the unimaginable agony Kelly must have been experiencing as the no-longer-antichrist went about entering the world. 

The women came in with a flurry of movement, barked orders, and at least two bags each. Sam, Dean, and Cas practically plastered themselves to hallway wall while the four women who could make it--Mary, Jody, Donna, and shockingly enough, Rowena--shuffled into Kelly's room with softened tones and genuine threats to Lucifer's life. 

"Sam," Jody said quietly, only an hour after being here, "I need you to do me a favor." 

Sam straightened up like he was about be given orders for war. "Yeah, yeah, of course." 

"Can you go out and get some ice packs, cabbage, more newborn diapers, a gown Kelly can easily slip in and out of, maxi-pads, and  _ a lot  _ of water?" Jody gave him a tight smile. "Please, and thank you." 

"Um," Sam said, swallowing thickly, "sure." 

"Oh, and if you can, try and grab a nursing bra," Jody told him. As she ducked back in the room, she chirped a quick and distracted, "Thanks!" 

Sam shot a confused look at Dean. "Cabbage?" he muttered faintly. 

"I dunno, man," Dean admitted with a shrug. 

Sam sighed and started heading out, snatching Baby's keys expertly from the air when Dean tossed them up. As he disappeared, Dean turned to stare at the closed door warily, wincing at the long, drawn out groans of pain from the other side. He quickly looked away, not at all curious about what was going on--even if, just slightly, he was--and made eye contact with Cas, who was already staring at him. 

"I believe the cabbage is for her breasts," Cas told him, the first words he'd spoken to Dean since the incident in the kitchen. 

Dean stared at him. "Cas, did you...read up on childbirth, dude?" 

Cas cleared his throat, reaching back to scratch at the nape of his neck. "I wanted to be helpful. I must admit, I find myself grateful that I don't have to be. The women seem much more in their element." 

"Yeah, well, it's the thought that counts," Dean muttered, crossing his arms and looking down at his shoes. Silence reigned, paradoxingly echoing in the space between them, and Dean would rather eat his own boot than deal with the awkwardness they'd both been avoiding for four days. "So…" 

"I feel I should apologize," Cas murmured, carefully turning to face Dean. "I may have overreacted." 

Dean scoffed. "Ya think? Jesus, Cas, you acted like I was coming for your virtue or something, or--or worse, like you're  _ against  _ two men--" 

"That is inaccurate, and you know it," Cas snipped, sending Dean a shrewd look. "I am utterly indifferent to--" 

"Yes, I know," Dean cut him off, shoving a hand through his hair. "M'not saying you didn't have a right to--well, ya know. I shouldn't have just...did it, at least not without asking. I guess I just didn't expect you to react like  _ that."  _

Cas clenched his jaw, one hand at his side balling into a fist before flexing, over and over. He stared at the ground, a strange set of emotions flickering rapidly over his face, like he was experiencing everything all at once. He opened his mouth, closed it, opened it again, and finally, he set his shoulders and took a deep breath. 

Lifting his gaze to Dean's, Cas quietly murmured, "You should have done it before."

Dean blinked, confusion settling in his mind like one big question mark, and he didn't  _ understand.  _ Cas wasn't making any sense. Did he want Dean to kiss him or not? Timing mattered, apparently, but Dean didn't know  _ how.  _ He tried to parse through what the fuck Cas meant, then couldn't, and as he opened his mouth to ask, the door opened and Mary stuck her head out to stare at them with raised eyebrows. 

"Boys," she said, "as entertaining as it is to hear you two talk about...whatever it is you're talking about, you're currently distraction four-fifths of the room in here--including the one about to push a baby out of a very small hole--and I'm going to need you both to take it elsewhere." 

Dean felt his face  _ instantly  _ explode with heat, a sure sign that he was blushing against his will--a thing he rarely, if ever, did at all. 

"Ah," Cas said delicately, "of course." 

Without wasting any time, Dean practically tripped over himself to get the hell out of there. Even his curiosity couldn't save him the shame, because he was one hell of a believer in  _ curiosity killed the cat.  _ He wasn't about to stick around and inevitably die from embarrassment, thank you very much. 

He left Cas standing in the middle of the hall, deciding to work his confusion out on his own. Hell, how hard could it be, right? 

As it turned out... _ very.  _

* * *

Jack was so  _ small.  _

He was, by far, the smallest baby Dean had ever seen or held--outside of Sam himself. He vaguely remembered Sammy coming home wrapped in soft blue blankets, so quiet, and John had taught him how to hold him properly. Sam had been tiny too, little face scrunched, miniature fists waving recklessly before clinging to one of Dean's own small fingers. 

Jack could almost fit perfectly on Dean's forearm, tiny head sitting gingerly in his palm. He'd mostly been sleeping for the past two days, and that seemed fair; Dean was sure that being born was hard work. 

Kelly, however, couldn't seem to sleep at all. The ladies made her get up and walk regularly, promising that it would help speed her recovery. She also breastfed Jack more than Dean expected a tiny kid to be able to eat. In her downtime, she didn't even try and catch some shut-eye; instead, she alternated between talking to the ladies, talking to the boys, or simply watch Jack breathe with intense focus. 

When Jack was nine days old, Dean went into Kelly's room with the hope that if he watched the little thing, she might actually sleep longer than two to three hours at a time--if that. Kelly was breastfeeding when he knocked and she called him in, and Dean offered her a smile as he moved to sit in the chair beside her bed, one that someone usually occupied. 

"Hey," Kelly greeted. She was slowly starting to look better overall, which was a relief. 

Dean leaned back in the chair and nodded to the baby-shaped lump under the cover she had draped over her chest. "Want me to take him when you're done? You could get a nap in."

Kelly sighed. "I'd have to pump, and I just--I really don't want to right this second." 

"You have some milk put back already, remember? You pumped extra yesterday," Dean reminded her, lips twitching when her eyebrows furrowed. 

"I did?" Kelly frowned over at Dean, blinking so slowly, oh so obviously exhausted. "I'm gonna be honest with you, I barely know what day it is." 

"Saturday," Dean told her casually. "You need some sleep. How about this? I sit right here with this little guy while you catch some Z's, and we'll both be right here when you wake up. Sound good?" 

Kelly didn't answer, not at first, too preoccupied with Jack suddenly finishing eating. She adjusted him, then herself, shushing him as he started to grunt in open displeasure at her moving. Just as it became borderline worrying as tiny mewls slowly started towards full-on crying, Kelly whipped the cover away and smiled down at him, watching his balled up face loosen as he could finally blink around. 

"Hi," she whispered softly, reaching out to lightly stroke his cheek. "What do you say, Jack? You want to hang out with Uncle Dean and give mama a break? Hmm, how's that sound?" 

Dean's chest warmed at the title, despite the fact that she'd been calling everyone Jack's uncles and aunts--including Mary, which really went against the entire family tree, but whatever. 

With a gentle sigh, Kelly started to sit farther up in the bed, but Dean launched out of the chair before she could move too far. She was almost right as rain by now, but Dean couldn't help but try and keep any of her strain at a minimum. They worked together to get Jack settled in Dean's arms, and once he was, Dean eased into the chair while Kelly wriggled farther down the bed with a happy sigh. 

"You good?" Dean checked. 

Kelly hummed, eyes fluttering closed. "Yeah, I'm alright. Wake me if--" 

"We'll be  _ fine,"  _ Dean assured her, cracking a smile when one of her eyes peeled open. 

"Wake me anyway," Kelly told him. 

Dean reached up to give her a two-fingered salute before focusing his gaze on the tiny human is his arms. Jack was tired as well, little eyelids fluttering as he gazed up at Dean with warm, brown eyes. There were a few flecks of gold in his eyes, and they all figured that was the imprint of the grace that was left behind--the only proof that it was there to begin with. Dean thought it added character. 

It was odd to think about now, but he used to think not-so-great things about this baby. A literal  _ baby.  _ He felt like shit for it now, holding Jack close to his chest and slowly rocking him. 

"Hey, Dean?" Kelly slurred. 

Dean's head snapped up; he hadn't been aware that she was still awake. Well, she was technically still awake, even if she looked half asleep. "Yeah?" 

"Can we stay?" she asked, eyes opening to gaze at him curiously. She wasn't pushing him, or begging; she was just...asking. "Me and Jack? Can we--" 

"Yeah," Dean cut her off quickly. "Yeah, you can stay as long as you like. Forever, if you want." 

Kelly smiled sleepily. "Good." 

Dean watched her visibly fall asleep, rocking her baby in his arms, and he swallowed thickly. He'd said it, and he meant it. Sure, it wasn't a part of the original plan, but he was happy to adjust--it was pretty much a habit at this point. 

And besides, he'd be lying if he said that he didn't want them to stay, because deep down--in the same places that he ached for a soulmate, that he craved intimacy, that he held most of his feelings--he really,  _ really  _ did. 

* * *

Mary was the last of the ladies to go. Jody and Donna set off together after giving everyone lots of hugs. Rowena left with a beaming smile at Kelly and Jack, a snarky comment to Dean and Cas, and a flirty wink to Sam. Mary hung around for a bit. 

Until, you know, she didn't. 

"You know me," Mary said gently, looking over to Sam and Cas fussing over Jack, "I can't stay in one place too long. But I'll definitely come visit." 

Dean sighed. "Alright, just check in with us, okay? Call anytime," he murmured, dipping forward to wrap her in a hug. 

Mary hummed a laugh in his ear. "In the meantime, you should be working on making things right with your soulmate." 

"How'd you--" 

"Kelly mentioned it, but she wasn't sure. But I see how you two are; it just made sense." 

"Right." Dean cleared his throat and pulled back, lowering his voice. "Well, you got it right on the nose. My soulmate's a goddamn angel. Ain't that a trip? And I've already managed to fuck it up somehow, but hey, that's on brand, I guess." 

"Oh, hush," Mary chided lightly, reaching out to gently smack his shoulder. "It's clear you and him are very close. Try talking to him?" 

Dean snorted. "Yeah, I'll do that." 

"Sweetheart, take it from me," Mary advised, arching an eyebrow pointedly, "you don't get to choose your soulmate,  _ but  _ you get to decide if you can reap the benefits or not. There's nothing like having someone you're always meant to be with--in  _ any  _ fashion." 

"Tell that to  _ him,"  _ Dean mumbled grudgingly. 

Mary quirked a smile. "You have someone to walk through life with, and he isn't the only one, but he's the one whose soul is tied to yours. That's it, that's all there is to it. The rest is entirely y'alls choice." 

Dean blinked, his mind going blank for a moment. Mary laughed at his dumbfounded expression and left him to sit on it, wandering over to Cas and Sam to say her goodbyes, cooing over Jack and Kelly while she passed out her hugs. Then, she was gone, just like that. Like she hadn't quite literally turned Dean's world on its head. 

Dean had to stand there and just...breathe for a moment. He was frozen in place, mind slowly coming to terms with the fact that he was severely missing the point of this whole soulmate business the entire goddamn time. 

He didn't kiss Cas because they were soulmates. Having a soulmate didn't make you attracted to them. Just because you were soulmates didn't mean you'd instantly have a connection, didn't mean you'd like each other, didn't mean they would become your best friend. Having a soulmate was about  _ souls,  _ and the rest...well, that was just choices. 

"Dean?" 

Jolting violently, Dean blinked rapidly and focused on Sam standing in front of him with a slight expression of concern. "Yeah?" he croaked. 

"You alright?" Sam asked cautiously. 

Dean's eyes slowly drifted over to Cas, who was nodding to whatever Kelly was saying, Jack curled close to his chest--which was just...not fair. 

"Sammy, when you met Jess, did you two get along? What made y'all even...date?" 

"Oh. Well, uh, we knew each other through friends and stuff, and she thought I was cute, so… Anyway, we talked for a little while, then became pretty good friends. We actually went out on a date before we even realized we were soulmates, isn't that crazy?" 

"Yeah," Dean murmured softly, "that's--yeah, crazy." 

"Is this about Cas?" Sam asked. 

Dean cleared his throat. "What gave me away? I'm just--I don't know. I think soulmates don't actually...matter, not in the long run. And I don't mean in a bad way; I mean in the sense that the important people in your life are your soulmates in a way  _ anyway.  _ And everything else just...happens because we want it to." 

"Well...yeah," Sam said slowly, his eyebrows twitching as he stared at Dean like he was maybe a little slow on the uptake. "It's just a  _ thing,  _ Dean. What, did you think that soulmates were a rulebook or something?" 

"I mean, kinda," Dean admitted. 

Sam snorted. "Dude, you can't pin that shit on soulmates. If you want to be with someone, then  _ you  _ do. Sure, it's a big, flashing sign pointing to someone who'll matter to you, and vise versa, but the sign isn't saying you gotta actually go all-in, ya know?" 

"I knew that." Dean paused and wrinkled his nose, frowning up at Sam. "I think. I just always assumed that it was a given to just...ya know." 

"Nah," Sam said simply. "Otherwise, what's the point? It's not real, not if you do it just because you're soulmates. No one wants that." 

_ You should have done it before.  _

With the equivalent of a slap to the face, the force of everything clicking in Dean's mind nearly knocked him on his ass. His head whipped around, eyes landing on Cas, and suddenly...he  _ understood.  _

Sam was still talking, but Dean just waved a hand and said, "Uh huh, yeah. I have to--yeah." 

And he didn't waste anytime. Walking over, Dean sent Kelly a tight smile and asked Cas if he could speak to him alone. With barely concealed wariness, Cas passed Jack back over to Kelly and followed. Dean led him to his room, shut the door, and worked hard to keep his heart in his chest. 

"Dean," Cas said, "if this is about--" 

"You were right," Dean interrupted, taking in a deep breath. "You were, and I was wrong, and I'm sorry." 

Cas went still, his eyebrows raising. "Dean," he murmured cautiously. 

"I should have done it before." Dean swallowed thickly and crossed his arms. "I should have done it when Lucifer hopped outta you. Or in purgatory. Or in that crypt. Or when it rained three years ago, or last summer, or when you were human. I should have, and I didn't, and I can't fix that." 

"Dean, I'm not sure--" 

"I've always wanted a soulmate, okay? I know I acted like I didn't, that I hated it, but I always wanted to have someone of my own, someone who would always be there for me, someone who I knew I could have in spite of losing everything. And I--I didn't think I had that, or was allowed to have it, so I despised it. But the truth is, I had it the whole time." 

When Dean paused for a breath, Cas frowned at him, his eyes wide with anger. "I'm not doing this with you. I'm just...not." 

"No, you're going to listen to me," Dean snapped, pointing a finger at him. "And you're going to listen to me good, you dick. Then, and only then, do you get to reject me in full. You got it?" 

"I don't  _ have  _ to listen to this," Cas retorted sharply, narrowing his eyes in open distaste. 

Dean nodded. "Yeah, but I'm asking you to, okay? Just--just listen. I didn't have it the whole time because I had a soulmate, Cas. I had it the entire fucking time because I had  _ you.  _ Alright? I don't need a fucking soulmate, I never did, not with you in my life. It's just some stroke of luck that you turned out to be everything I've ever needed  _ and  _ wanted." 

Cas' face softened. "Dean…" 

"You know what soulmates are, Cas? They're just an asterisk. Just an extra little thing that says our souls are linked, and that's  _ it."  _ Dean took a risk and stepped forward, heart hammering away in his chest as Cas made no move to halt him. "Everything else? That's on us. And that kiss? That's on  _ me.  _ I did it because I wanted to, not because I think I've got some kinda claim on you now. And you're right, I should have done it before, but I didn't think I was allowed, didn't even consider the fucking possibility that I had a chance at--well, at anything, really. But I realized that people aren't granted allowance, or given chances...they just  _ do it.  _ So, I'm doing it, and I'm sorry I'm late, but better late than--" 

Cas smacked a hand over Dean's mouth, gripping his cheeks so hard that he couldn't even form words around his fingers. With blazing blue eyes, Cas hissed, "You would  _ never  _ have considered me if I didn't listen to that mixtape." 

Dean made an offended noise against Cas' palm and jerked back to defend himself. "Jesus, Cas, I know you're not fucking  _ stupid.  _ Think about it, think about everything, man. Look at the--I  _ can't  _ believe I'm saying this, but look at the freaking  _ subtext.  _ I made you a mixtape, Cas. A  _ mixtape.  _ That's like 'I Have A Crush' 101, you jackass." 

"Yes, but you never said--" 

"Because I'm fucked up. I'm just...really fucked up, especially when it comes to love. But actions speak louder than words, man. And that's not to say I haven't said plenty over the years. Look, here's what I know for sure, okay? Even before all of this soulmate shit, I always wanted you around. I missed you when you were gone. You're important to me. I can barely fucking function when you're dead. And above all else, I want you in my life as long as I got breath in my body, doesn't matter how--I'll consider myself lucky as long as you're there." 

Cas tilted his chin up, throat bobbing as he stared at Dean. "And what about everything else? The...more that you attempted." 

"Ah, yeah, 'bout that," Dean said awkwardly, coughing slightly. "Okay, man, sue me. I wanted-- Well, I wanted some TLC, and you've always been gorgeous, and I guess… I just wasn't thinking about much more than wanting you as close as possible. S'how I am sometimes when I get especially in the mood, or as you know, when I want some...contact."

"I see." Castiel took a step back, surveying Dean from head to toe, scanning him for something. Possibly sincerity. "Just to clarify, you're saying you've always had feelings for me in some fashion or another, but it wasn't until you learned that we were soulmates that you felt brave enough to do anything about it?" 

Dean tipped his head from side to side, mouthing the words to make sense of them. Finally, he settled on a nod and muttered, "Yeah, basically." 

"Okay." 

"Okay?  _ Okay?  _ What the hell does that--"

Dean stopped talking the moment that Cas reached up to remove his trenchcoat and suit jacket, deft fingers immediately focusing on tugging off his tie right after. It quickly became apparent that Cas was just going to strip, which was...well. 

"I'm going to go out on a cliff and assume from your expression that you're not sure what my exact implications are," Cas said calmly, tossing the tie on the floor beside him before going to work on the buttons on his white shirt. 

Dean's eyes bulged. "Out on a limb, Cas. It's going out on a limb. And uh, there's only a few options here; I'm just hoping like hell that my wishful thinking isn't clouding my judgement." 

Cas slipped gracefully out of his shirt, leaving him naked from the waist up. He cocked one eyebrow and said, "It isn't." 

"Right," Dean choked out. 

With a deep breath, Dean reached down to tug his shirt off as well, then followed Cas to bed. 

* * *

"I'm never going to say it, you know." 

Cas hummed and looked up from the anti-possession tattoo he was tracing on Dean's chest. "Say what?" 

"That I-- The three words," Dean replied, just staring at the simultaneously soft and sharp angles of Cas' face. "You know what I mean." 

"No," Cas said slowly, "I do not." 

"I love you," Dean informed him. 

Cas smiled. "I love you too. I always have." 

"No, Cas, I wasn't--" Dean stopped himself, watching the side of Cas' eyes crinkle as his smile gradually widened in amusement. "You little shit. Well, I guess I did fucking say it, but I'm not gonna be able to say it again, so just--just remember that I do." 

"I assure you," Cas promised, "I will." 

Later that night, they drifted off to Cas' mixtape playing through the room and the comfort of family on the other side of the walls. 

And though they were both averse to soulmates for their own reasons, they decided to allow each other to be the exception, blissfully unaware of what would have happened if soulmates weren't real at all. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! Don't hesitate to drop off some kudos and please leave a comment; I do so appreciate them. 
> 
> Ta! 
> 
> -SOBS


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